Flickering Star
by AncientQuill
Summary: Cassandra Blake is the daughter of Balthazar and Veronica. A powerful sorceress of blood containing great magic. However, both Balthazar and Veronica are pronounced dead. What will happen when a jaded Dave finds her and takes her in as his apprentice?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It had been a long time. A long time of hunting down Morganians and facing deadly challenges that left them all drained and thirsting for an easier life. A life where they could put each other first instead of the next big catastrophe planning to destroy the world. But as always, they would find a way. They always did and though this one was more of an act of exhaustion than a real coherent thought, they found a way.

So they finally got to stay in one place for more than a day. Basking in the other's company and hardly believing that they were alive. Or together. Each dreading that something would pinch them awake and they would drown in mourning sorrows again. But as time passed slowly, they finally started to really believe. It was just like magic. Impossible, like a dream at first, then after a while it becomes the centre of your life. One of the most realistic and tangible things in the world.

So as they closed themselves off from the universe they decided to test their fragile reality to the limit. See if its' walls would bend or its' structure crack. And just like magic, it seemed that their little world was indeed realistic and tangible. All their love simply pouring out and all their fears erased as their new world, their new light, blossomed into a brilliant ball of fire. Tender and warm were the days. With two suns lighting their mornings rather than one.

But as every man and woman that has faced death before knows, good things must always come to an end. But their end was not one they expected. It crept into the night, cackling and grinning at their pending destruction. And when they had finally realised that their light, their love was in danger, they hid it, desperate to keep it safe. Maybe they would have their lives ripped away but not their light. Never their burning bright beacon of hope. For if they were to disappear into the shadows once more, that light would be their only salvation. The world's only salvation. They just hoped that it would not be doused by the same darkness that enveloped them.

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_I just watched Sorcerer's Apprentice and this plot just popped into my head. Yes, I know it's short. But it's the prologue so it's supposed to be short... Well mine always are anyway. So what is the verdict? Continue? Kill? Please, please review and tell me. I'll try to get the next chapter up A.S.A.P._

Sincerely,  
AncientQuill


	2. As It's Always Been

**As It's Always Been **

First days at a new school in the middle of the year were always dreadful experiences for most kids. For Cassandra Blake, however, they were just a regular part of life. As routine as doctor's check-up, though a bit more painful, she had to admit. Shifting her backpack to her other shoulder she made her way to her rather worn out bike.

"Hey! New kid, wait up a second!" a voice sounded from behind her.

Cassandra turned around, curious to find the source. Well that had never happened before. Excluding that one time in Westbrook, kids never wanted to talk to the new outsider. 'Ignorance is bliss' was a common belief amongst High School students. Unless of course, you happen to be the centre of a sorority or a head jock which Cassandra was certainly not nor wanted to be. She never stayed long enough to build any kind of reputation anyway.

"Hi!" a sporty-looking girl with a big grin and bright eyes jogged up to her, dirty-blond pig-tails bouncing on either side of her head.

"Hello?" Cassandra answered tentatively, looking the girl over.

"Didn't mean to bother you, but you forgot this when you left class," the girl held out a language book that looked like it was about to fall apart at any second, "I thought you might want it back."

"Oh," Cassandra took the book; she hadn't even noticed they had given her one in school, "Thank you. I guess I forgot with all the commotion," she said, giving the girl a grateful smile.

"Yeah, language isn't really the best of subjects here. A real bore if you ask me so everyone tends to run out of there like they've got the devil on their heels. I'm Penelope Baines," she stuck out her hand, "Pleasure to meet you...?"

"Cassandra Irving," she gave the girl her current alias, taking Penelope's hand and shaking it.

"So you're new to this area?"

Cassandra nodded, "Just came here from Montréal," she lied.

"Oh! So you speak French right?" this seemed to brighten Penelope's brown even more.

"_Oui_," well at least that was true. Maybe a new friend would be helpful in a big city like this. Plus, a little company could go a long way.

"Oh I just love that language! Maybe you can be my tutor!" she grinned, "Anyway, if you want a guide at any time, I'm here to help. New York can get a big confusing at times. Plus, I know all the best places to visit."

"Thanks for the offer," Cassandra smiled back warmly at the girl then a thought came to her, "Actually; you could be of some help. Do you know the nearest place where I could find a map or a guide of some kind?"

"Maps, huh? Well there is that place by the near-by pizzeria that sells tourist souvenirs and things like that. I'm pretty sure there are some guide books there. I can draw a quick map if you like," Penelope slid off her bag and rummaged through it until she pulled out a binder, a piece of paper and a pen.

"That would be perfect," Cassandra's smile widened.

Using the binder as a support, she scribbled something down with the pen and handed Cassandra the page, "That should help. I'm not really good with maps."

Cassandra took the page and looked it over. This was going to save her a lot of time. "Thanks Penelope, I really appreciate it."

"No problem! Just hope you can read it. Remember, my offer still stands."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thanks again," Cassandra folded it up and put it in her jacket pocket.

"Well, see you around!" Penelope turned to leave waving enthusiastically over her shoulder and heading toward a group of girls in their school team's sea-blue track suits. Cassandra waved back in return before once again heading to her beat-up black bicycle.

Feet pushing down on the pedals, she started moving away from the school. She took out the map from her pocket and turned into the road it directed. Finally sighting what she was looking for she drove her bike in the direction of the store. Locking it to a most conveniently placed bike-rack, she walked into the blue shop. It was crammed with every possible souvenir one could think of: T-shirts, statues and, thankfully, books. She made her way to the revolving rack of maps and guides. She took the cheapest one and then grabbed a small book on the history of the city and turned to the counter. A short overweight woman sat there, nose in a newspaper.

"Excuse me?" Cassandra said rather loudly to catch the woman's attention. Lowering the paper the lady looked at her with an accusing expression, probably unhappy about being disturbed in the middle of reading.

Getting up and taking her books she passed them through the check then called out the price. Cassandra searched her bag for her wallet, there wasn't really much to search though anyway.

"You don't look like a tourist," the woman commented.

"I'm not," Cassandra replied giving out money to the older woman.

"Well then you're probably looking for something to do a project on then," the lady continued, passing Cassandra the change, "There is an old antique place a block from here that is pretty ancient if you're interested."

"I'll check it out, thank you for the heads up."

"Just doing my job, dear," she nodded and sat down to pick up where she left off in her paper.

Cassandra took note to check the place out and exited the store. Getting on her bike she rode away again, making her way towards the direction of her new rent-out apartment. It was most conveniently located close to the school and in one of the older parts of the city; 'old' being a relative term in a city like this.

Dodging several cars she made her way to her new home. Home was another very relative term for Cassandra, having many in the year and even more during the entire span of her life. The sky was fixated on remaining grey today, as if someone had made pencil mark over the bright blue and smudged it. The sun also seemed determined to fade into a melancholy tone. Maybe it was all the fumes from the numerous yellow taxies staining the view above but it didn't matter much to her either way. She had much more important things to consider.

Where was she to start her search? The older regions were a given, but which area? Maybe she would start from the north and make her way south. That sounded like a good enough plan. _Maybe I'll find them here..._The constantly hopeful thought rang out again as with every time she came to a new place. Perhaps this would be the city where she would finally end her quest.

Unwelcome memories came upon her at that thought. The day her world crumbled and the day her new, desolately lonely life began. Her pointless search seemed utterly hopeless when she actually paused to think of what she was trying to accomplish. _I won't give up! I'll never give up!_ That thought seemed stronger before than it did now, jaded with time and disappointment.

Dismounting the bike and chaining it to a series of metal rings located right outside the building, she unlocked the door and entered. The building itself looked a lot like the sky today: grey and empty. Excluding the few plants placed here as last-minute decor or whatever other use the owner thought they could pose. Luckily the building also had an elevator, saving Cassandra from the tiring nine-story-high climb.

A large mirror made up the one free wall of the elevator opposite the one-window door. Cassandra usually avoided looking at mirrors but today she spared herself a glance. A pair of grey eyes looked back at her. She swore that they were once blue, perhaps it was the light. Or maybe it was just exhaustion. They were rimmed with dark, think lashes, and underneath them lay blue-bruised skin from obvious lack of rest. She feared those would never go away. Her complexion was like porcelain; hardly any pink left on her cheeks. Her face framed by long and slightly curving auburn hair, the only thing that really looked like her old self anymore. Maybe that and her red lips, but even those were losing colour. It was depressing to see herself like this. What had happened over the years? Her eyes burned slightly at the answer and she turned away from the mirror, regretting ever looking there in the first place.

A soft ring was heard and the door slid aside to reveal the 9th floor. Stepping out she got out her keys and unlocked the door with a light creak. Dropping the keys on the near-by table with a rattle she made her way to the kitchen. The place had also come fully furnished making all the more convenient for Cassandra, however plain the decor actually was. She made a personal note to buy flowers for the place. A little colour would do her some good; it seemed her life had been painted all in one gloomy shade.

"Hey, Orion, are you here?" she called out. A ruffle of wings was heard and soon a sleek-looking owl with a white, heart-shaped face appeared from the bedroom and landed on the counter. Orion was an injured barn owl Cassandra had found in New Brunswick when she had been hiking through an old forest reserve said to have been the home of ancient Aboriginal magic-men. Taking the poor creature home she had healed him and intended to release him but the old owl wouldn't leave her side. He was now Cassandra's loyal companion and most trusted friend, following her from city to city.

He was a most intelligent animal too. Sleeping in the morning and flying and hunting by night though when it came to larger cities, it was Cassandra who did most of the hunting, buying mice from local pet stores. But he could always find his way back, wherever he went.

"Hello partner, so how did you sleep?" big beady eyes looked back at her blankly as she took a green apple from the counter basket. Smiling at him in amusement she continued, "Well I had a most interesting day, thanks for asking. I was actually spoken to by a student. Yeah, I know it's weird isn't it? That never happens! I guess New York is just one of those places," she took a bite out of the apple.

Walking over to her bag she took out the guide and opened it up on the round table in the middle of the room. Taking a seat she flipped over to the historical landmark section and started reading. The books were always useful but never actually had any of the smaller sites containing some sort of historical standing.

It seemed that she would have to go and do a little exploring tomorrow, thank heavens it was going to be Saturday. Second day absences were never appreciated. She had to laugh out loud at that thought. Since when did she care about school grades and reputations? She never stayed long enough to complete the year anyway. The latest month she would sign herself up in was May, and that was far enough from graduation. Besides, a one-month early summer vacation would always give her more time to search instead of attending some stupid class she hardly ever paid attention to. But it was what they would have wanted so she didn't dare go against it.

Her throat knotted at the thought of them. Her parents were the only thing that really mattered now. Balthazar and Veronica had been pronounced dead, killed in a vicious car accident that had sent them flying off the road and into a steep ditch by a rapid river. Blood found on in the car had matched both of them so there was no doubt it had been them. Though the bodies were never found, the authorities claimed that the stream had probably washed them away. Their only child, Cassandra Blake age 6, had been passed on to a foster home, since there were no other known relatives left to take her in.

This was the story that she had been told. This was the story that had been in the papers, the news. This was the story everyone believed. Except her. Cassandra never for one moment thought that her parents, the great Balthazar a Veronica Blake had died in some stupid car crash. There was no way in hell two of the three apprentices of Merlin had met their end with a car accident. It was a lie. Something had happened that night and although they may have both been in that car, they did not die. Something or someone had taken them away, taken them away from her.

Her hand absentmindedly reached for her throat where a silver, unbreakable chain held both of their rings. She had been too young to get her own when they were still alive so she knew very little of magic. Her only knowledge coming from the Encantus her parents had left behind. Ever since that stupid accident, her entire life had revolved around finding them. And so she would.

* * *

_First, I'd like to thank all who reviewed! I'm very grateful to you all, you guys rock!_

_I really hate writing first chapters. They're always so boring and my explanations always end up lame. Though I must say, it has ended up much longer than I expected it to. I'll try to set a 1,000 word minimum for every chapter from now on. I had so much fun making up Orion in this! He just came as I was finishing up the chapter. Hopefully we'll see more of him in the future. I'll try to get Chapter 2 up soon!_

_Please write a review before you leave and really I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

Sincerely,  
AncientQuill


	3. Behind the Curtain

**Behind the Curtain**

"Oh, shut up!" she yelled hand coming down hard on the snooze button. Groaning Cassandra swung her legs off to the side of the bed, rubbing her eyes insistently. "Why did I ever buy that stupid clock in the first place?"

An irritated hoot was heard as Orion shook his feathers, beady eyes seeming to glare at the black machine. He called out again making Cassandra raise her head and chuckle at the bird's stubborn despise.

"Don't I know it," she laughed again as he fluffed his feather, "No worries partner, I'll turn it into a radio again. As soon as I find that manual," she shook her curving locks out of her face and got up, making her way to the table.

"So where do I start?" she mused, looking over the map she had opened the night before.

Sunlight poured into the room through the half open window painting the room an even brighter shade of white and casting shadows over the large paper. She had pinpointed several locations all over New York the night before. One was an old Chinese restaurant owned by an old family, another an Indian spice and vegetable market that had been owned by the same man for a hundred years- or so said Google -and an old cemetery hosting dead men for many centuries past. Red circles were placed over each location, marking the each area.

"Well let's get started," Cassandra sighed, turning to her clothes drawers.

\-\-\-\

The weather seemed better today, blue skies instead of grey, a sign of luck. Or so Cassandra hoped, anyway. Making her way down the busy sidewalk, nose in a map, she tried to weave her way through the crowd of people. Heading to the most Northern point on the map, she looked up occasionally to see if she could spot any sign of the Chinese restaurant.

"Oh my gosh! Hey!" a familiar voice shouted and Cassandra felt someone tap her on the back. Turning, she looked questioningly at the pixie-sized female. "Hey, Cassie! Wow, what a coincidence! So where are you headed?"

"Umm..." Cassandra looked the girl over again folding the map and placing it into her pocket. Who was this hyper-active...? "Oh, hello Penelope, I'm just off to get some..." she checked her watch, "brunch."

"Brunch, huh? You're probably one of the only people I know who still get brunch. Well where are you headed? A couple friends of mine are all going to this great smoothie place. Would you like to tag along?" Penelope grinned up at her, toothy smile flashing pearly whites.

"I don't think that would be a very good idea. I'm sure it will be very awkward and I wouldn't want you missing out time with your friends for me. Besides, I really have to go-"

"Oh, nonsense! Its right around the corner and you're no burden! Come on!" Penelope grabbed Cassandra by the wrist and started dragging her away from the intersection. Away from the restaurant.

"I'm not really good around strangers, you know. You don't have to go to all this trouble; I was heading in a totally different direction anyway," Cassandra wrung her wrist a bit, trying to escape the other girl's firm grip.

"Oh please, Cassie. Live a little! Anyway, we're already here," she let go of Cassandra's wrist, pointing to a small corner shop painted in vibrant green. A few signs were outside it and the place seemed pretty full.

Pulling her into the store, Penelope grazed her eyes over the tables filled with chatting people slurping on juice drinks. Her eyes widened and she grinned waving to a table near the window. Another girl facing them returned the greeting and nudged her two other friends out of their conversation.

"Hey guys! Look who I found walking along the streets today," Penelope sat down next to a wiry-looking fellow and pulled out another seat for Cassandra, urging her to sit, "This here is Cassandra Irving, the new arrival."

The fair-haired boy nodded in greeting and the two raven-headed girls smiled at her, seeming to size her up. Cassandra sat awkwardly, not knowing what to say, and gave a little wave with jerk of her hand. God, she hated socializing. How long had it been since she had to go through these motions anyway? Her mind, to Cassandra's chagrin, quickly provided an answer. Her skills were certainly forgotten by now.

"Cassie, let me introduce Jonathan Summers," Penelope continued, pointing to the brown-eyed blond next to her, "Angela Collins," she motioned to the black-haired beauty sitting opposite Cassandra, "And her sister Beatrice," Penelope indicated to the honey-eyed look alike of Angela sitting next to Cassandra.

"Pleasure," Cassandra managed to fumble out with a nod. Oh yes, definitely out of practise.

"So are you into sports, Cassie?" Beatrice started, seeming only a bit calmer than Penelope.

"Not really, I don't really do much other than hiking," Cassandra shrugged lightly, "I'm not the most graceful person to walk the earth," well at least that was true.

"Oh, well we're all from the track team," Angela pointed out smugly looking down her nose at her.

The blond boy nudged her, "Play nice Angela, Cassandra here just came to New York. From Montréal wasn't it?" Cassandra nodded again, "Penelope here was most intent on spreading news of your arrival all throughout the practise. And how you would be her tutor for French."

Cassandra blushed with nervousness, twisting a strand of hair deftly around her fingers. What had happened to staying low? Keeping under the radar? Not earning a reputation? This was not going to turn out well. "Well I'll be happy to help if you like."

"Great!" Penelope let out a little cry of excitement, grabbing hold of Cassandra's hand from across the round wood table, "I cannot wait to get started! How's Sunday for you?"

Cassandra stuttered a bit, unsure of how to get out of the arrangement. _Well you did say you'd be happy to help... _her consciousness chided her. She mentally scowled at herself, how was she to know the girl would take her seriously? She had work to do and was in no way ready to sacrifice her time to teach a hyper peer how to speak French.

"Oh you can't do that!" called out Angela, "We have meeting on Sundays! You'll just have to do it another day!"

Cassandra breathed a small sigh of relief. It seemed the conceited girl had come to her rescue.

"Oh but I-"

"No buts, Penelope, track is way more important than learning a new language," Jonathan paused to turn to Cassandra for a second, "No offence," his gaze returned to a frowning Penelope, "Besides, you can do it after school on Tuesdays."

Penelope crossed her arms over her chest and let out a stubborn huff of disagreement. The argument went on a bit longer; Angela responding stoutly with a no-exception attitude, Jonathan as the voice of reason and Beatrice constantly switching sides between her sister and her friend always speaking modestly. Cassandra faded into the background for a bit, enjoying the role of a wallflower as the small group jabbered on. It amazed her to see how fast they could jump from topic to topic. She wasn't even sure they knew they were doing it. The whole conversation just flowed together into one story. It was quite riveting when one was watching from the outside instead of taking part. Soon enough though, the conversation slowed and got topics started to rapidly run out. The whole thing seemed like a train starting from point A, until finally slowing down when catching sight of point B.

At some point during the story of Serena-the-bitch-hellhound -and-how-she-made-the-Collins-sisters-Friday-a-living-Hell Penelope's phone rang and she rushed to pick up. After several fast responses of "Mom!" "But" and "Fine!" she hung up and looked at the group with a most unhappy grimace.

"Sorry guys, I got to dash, parents' orders. Apparently I forgot to clean up my paints from the basement and a certain someone ran them over with a vacuum cleaner claiming not to have seen them and," here she put on a high-pitched voice, "It was all _your_ responsibility to clean up the basement anyway!"

An appreciative chuckle ran throughout the group, even Cassandra had to smile at that one. Penelope got up and grabbed her neon-yellow purse. The rest of the group got up as well, all reaching for their things. Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief; finally she could get back to her search. Though she had to admit, it had been fun. Maybe settling down a bit after every few years wouldn't be so bad. Even if it only involved having a few drinks with a couple of new-found acquaintances she barely knew. Maybe company wasn't all that bad. It made her life place-to-place life seem quite lonely.

"It's your turn this time, Jonathan," Angela directed her gaze to the check constituting of four chocolate-banana smoothies and one green bubble tea, the later being an effort from Cassandra to avoid her least-favourite fruit. Though Penelope had argued most ruthlessly with her in order to force her to order something that was -in her words- a bit less bland.

Jonathan mumbled something incoherent under his breath mainly constituting of offensive remarks toward the blue-eyed female. He dug into his pockets, searching for his wallet. Penelope then turned to Cassandra, a regretful smile on her cotton-pink lips.

"Look, I'm sorry if you felt out of place," she said, placing a hand on Cassandra's shoulder.

"No! On the contrary, it was very nice of you and your friends to invite me," Cassandra assured her nodding.

"Well, if you ever want to tag along with us again, just say the words. Here my number if you want to give me a call, okay? We're going to the theatres on Sunday if you want to come," she passed Cassandra the purple sticky she had been writing on.

"Thanks for the offer but I think I have piano classes then. Maybe another day," Cassandra replied pushing back the paper to its owner.

"Keep my number anyway just in case you decide to skip class," she winked and Cassandra took the paper and folded it in her pocket.

Turning to her friends Penelope waved goodbye and left the shop. The Collins sister followed suite and Cassandra exited last, leaving Jonathan to wait for his change for the $50 bill he had given in, due to the fact that he had forgotten to bring any other money.

Cassandra made her way along the sidewalk and opened her map again to check her next location. She wasn't too far from the Chinese place, but she was even closer to the Indian spice store. Glancing up from the now crumpled map, she checked her location again, searching for a sign to see which street she was on. To her surprise, she spotted a tourist shop with a blue door; it was the same place she had gone to buy the map from. A memory sparked in her mind much like the light bulbs that flashed over a cartoon character's head when a brilliant plan was hatched.

_A__n old antique place a block from here that is pretty ancient if you're interested..._The lady's words came back to her. Old antique place... That seemed like the perfect spot to find what she was looking for. Folding the map once again and slipping it into her right pocket, she made her way down the block, eyes darting from store to store in search of an antique shop. After a few minutes of walking, and reaching the end of the second block she puffed out a frustrated breath. What did this lady consider "a block from here" anyway? Retracing her steps she tried again, supposing she had missed a shop. She had made it to the second block when she stopped. The two blocks where separated by a small rode that led to another street; perhaps the woman had meant that instead? Turning around, she headed through the small bend in the sidewalk, keeping her eyes peeled for any type of store.

"Here we are," she mumbled looking up at an unusually gloomy shop. The exterior was painted a dark green, almost grey, colour. The whole thing looking quite small with an entrance composed of steps, a pair of old-fashioned lamps and two glass doors. "Arcana Cabana..." she read the faded gold lettering.

The place seemed exceedingly mysterious, holding a sense of suspense and secrecy. It also looked old, bringing a smile to Cassandra's face. _Looks like I've hit the jackpot..._ She contemplated, walking up the steps, hand trailing over the chipped wood railing. Ignoring the 'BY APPOINTMENTS ONLY' sign she opened the doors and was welcomed with a most exhilarating sight.

Items. Thousands and thousands of items, piled up on every wall, crammed into every self, hanging off of every ledge. Unusual items, extraordinary items, items that should only exist in books and stories. This was exactly what she had been looking for. A place of legend, a place of myth. A place that contained items that were bound to have some sort of magical significance. Items that could lock a soul up for years and keep it hidden. This was it. It _had_ to be it. She had seen mystical places before that contained equally fabulous items such as these but never like this, and never in such quantity.

She gazed hungrily at the cabinets and shelves holding who-knows-what amazing things she could see. Waves of excitement ran up her spine and she immediately started surfing through the mound of objects on the closest shelf, picking up and examining anything that seemed remotely suspicious. She was so lost in the grand heap of antiques she didn't hear the footsteps until a drawling voice sounded from behind her.

"Can I help you?" the voice caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. Turning around quickly and nearly pushing over several objects she faced her discoverer. Dressed in a crisp black suit with matching tie and felt hat was tall man of about 40. His dark, piercing gaze examining her intently.

"Oh, um... You're the owner?" she asked more than a little intimidated by the man's haunting demeanour. A small tilt of the head answered her question and she swallowed roughly. "Well I was uh... passing by the store and I wondering if you have anything of um... magical significance." The man gazed at her blankly, still watching her carefully. "I mean to say do you have anything from err... mythological histories or uh... an item considered part of legend or..." he raised a brow in question, "Oh damn! What am I saying? I'm not even making sense!" this just brought the corners of the man's mouth down further, "What I'm trying to ask is... well... is there an item here of magical or legendary importance that might contain or be part of a myth that speaks of containing human souls or preserving them for a long time?"

His expression changed into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed significantly. He looked her over again then moved forward, unclasping his hands from behind his back. Cassandra took a step back like a reflex at his advance and he paused.

"You seek the Grimhold, do you?" he spoke in a voice that seemed almost darker than the one he had used the first time he spoke.

"The-the what?" she blurted out.

"Oh, don't play coy with me! I know who you are, Morganian," he sneered advancing again, "Nice disguise but did you honestly think you can steal it from me? Think Horvath didn't try hard enough? Or do you work for him?"

"Morganian? What are you-" then she caught the flash of green light on his finger and her eyes widened like moons. It all came back and it had the same effect as being hit with a hammer.

Morganians, the soul enemies of Merlinians and the cause of most magic-created catastrophes. Or so said the Encantus, anyway. Sorcerer. He was a Merlinian sorcerer. And it seemed he thought her to be the enemy. This was a disaster! A huge, total and complete disaster. Who knew how powerful this guy could be? And even worse was that the only magic she knew was composed of creating fire and a little bit of telekinesis. Weren't Merlinians supposed to be good? Another look at the man and all her thoughts of what Merlinians were _supposed_ to be like disappeared.

"No, no, no, no! Let me explain, I have absolutely nothing to do with magic! I was just-"

"Looking?" he cut in, a blue orb of energy balanced between his palms, "I'm sure you were. I can tell a sorceress when I see one, Morganian. So, are you working for Maxim or just out on some solo job?"

"I don't know any Maxim! I'm not a Morganian! I'm Merlinian for crying out loud! Please!" the orb just seemed to enlarge, "Oh God! Come on! Just listen to me! I'm the daughter of Balthaz-" she was cut short, a scream ripping from her throat as the blue ball of energy rocketed toward her.

* * *

_Looks like it's a cliff-hanger! Oh, how I love them! Guess you'll have to wait until Chapter 3 to find out if Cassandra gets blasted to smithereens or not. I can almost hear the angry shouts and groans from here. Sorry guys!_

_A very, very big thanks to everyone who reviewed! I can't tell you how grateful I am to have a two-chapter story and already 10 reviews up. Love you guys! And to **kenobigirlliz**: I didn't even notice the Harry Potter reference until you mentioned it *facepalm*. Hopefully, your later question shall be answered in the next chapter. Anyway, I beg you guys to please drop a review before you leave. It really helps encourage the writing out of me. Another thanks to those who have added this story to their alerts but guys, will a small review really hurt?_

_So I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter (excluding the cliff of an ending)! Looks like you guys finally got to meet Dave! Well my version of an older Dave anyway. Fair warning, he's going to be super OOC. I have reasonable explanations though, so don't think it's just my bad writing. Well maybe a little, but still. I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can!_

Sincerely,  
AncientQuill


	4. Take the Fall

**Take the Fall**

She brought her hands to her face in a stupidly desperate attempt to shield herself from the attack, eyes shut tight. But nothing came. No pain, no being blown to the other side of the room, just silence. All was still except for her rapid breathing and a heart rate that she assumed could be heard for miles. Lowering her hands she peeked through one eye, perhaps she was dead already. The blazing sphere of pure destructive power was inches away from her, sparks of energy flying off it almost touching her face, though it remained unmoving as if frozen in time. And considering the man's abilities, it probably was.

"Balthazar Blake? You're... _You're_ his daughter?" he asked. She looked up, eyes darting from the blue globe and back to him. He seemed utterly disbelieving, eyes wide and his gaze scanning her like some sort of radar.

"Yes," she let out the breath she'd been holding in relief as the energy sphere in front of her dissolved into nothing, "I'm Cassandra Blake, daughter of Veronica and Balthazar."

"Prove it," he commanded nodding toward her expectantly, still seeming not to trust her. She doubted he would trust her even if she offered a blood-vow.

Prove it? How was she supposed to prove her lineage? Then it came to her... "I have their Rings," she said taking out the silver necklace with shaking hands from under her jacket and showing the two elegantly crafted jewelled rings hanging off it.

He took a few steps closer until her was right in front of her, hand reaching out to touch the two magical ornaments hanging off it, "You weren't lying..."

Cassandra just stood there for a few moments, watching the abundant array of expressions cross his face as he looked over the two Rings of her parents. He seemed transfixed with them; questioning their existence, doubting their genuineness.

Cassandra's emotions mixed up horrendously and with much confliction with her common logic. Run. Her entire body was screaming at her to flee from the area, gain as much distance between her and this shop. The less logical part of her seemed to gush and overflow with excitement and anticipation. He must know her parents! Perhaps even where they could be! He could help her! Her quest was good enough as over! Why had she not thought of New York earlier?

"What happened?" the man broke from his trance and let go of the silver chain holding the Rings, taking a few rather dazed steps back from Cassandra, still studying her. It seemed an even more intense inspection than when she had first entered the shop.

"You knew my parents?" she blurted out ignoring his question; it seemed her emotions had taken her logic hostage, padlocked it to a chair and hidden it in a dark corner of her mind.

"Yes, I... _knew_ your parents..." answered slowly, face turning pale and eyes darkening with the same affect storm clouds have on the sky, "What happened?"

"They... well... The police..." Cassandra took a breath swallowing around the tightly constricted knot in her throat, "They were pronounced dead. Their car was found in a ditch by the side of the road and though their bodies weren't found but there was blood so everyone just assumed that they were..." she squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a small shake in an attempt to dispel the demons, "They're not dead. I know they aren't. Sorcerers just don't die of car crashes. It-it doesn't make sense!"

"Balthazar... he-he's dead?" the man managed to croak out eyes wide, though the grey clouds still hazed his vision.

"No! He's not dead!" she practically yelled then bit her tongue down in fear that the man would snap again. She guessed she wouldn't be as lucky the second time around if another energy blast came her way.

"A car crash?" the dark-haired man murmured under his breath, obviously oblivious to the furious and desperate teenager in front of him.

"No! Just listen to me! They didn't die! Everyone else just _said_ they died. They're out there somewhere, I just know it! They're still alive. You knew them, you should understand how improbable the whole thing sounds," the words broke through her, voice pitched higher, willing the man in front of her to believe her unlike the many others who didn't.

"You honestly still think they survived?" asked the suited man in front of her, his gaze apprehensive. This caused the spinning vortex of doubt to drag her deeper down into its black waters, "Don't you think that if they were alive, they would have found you? How long has it been?"

"Eleven years..." she whispered.

"Then don't you think that in those eleven years your parents would have tried to find you? Try to be with you again? If they were alive, do you honestly think that they would not struggle to find their way back to you?"

This left her in silence. How could he think them dead? She could tell he truly did with that forlorn almost miserable expression in his eyes. He had obviously known Balthazar and Veronica well. How could this man, this _sorcerer_ accept their deaths by a _car crash_ as true? It was insanity! _Or maybe it's just you... _the wretched thought surfaced to her mind. _Maybe you're the one that believes the lie. How can you be right when everyone else believes the opposite?_

"You're wrong! They're not dead," she raised her gaze to match his, overcoming the darkness of scepticism. She had met many people like him before. Doubting her beliefs and labelling her hope as a stage of shock. She wasn't a child anymore and she knew the truth. She wasn't about to let some half-whit of a sorcerer tell her otherwise. "How can the two apprentices of Merlin die in something as simple as a car crash with magic on their side? It was something else. Some old enemy of theirs probably decided to kidnap them or something like that!" she narrowed her eyes in a decisive way, banishing the misgiving thoughts in her head, "Balthazar and Veronica _are not dead_."

He just stood there and watched her for a few moments, a scrutinizing look on his face, summing her up as he looked back at her, "I guess hope dies last in the entire Blake family..."

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the tempest of anger inside her. Swallowing down her overgrown sense of pride and immovable stubbornness, she looked up to him, speaking in a barely controlled tone.

"Look, I need your help. It seems as if you knew my parents well, so you should also know some of their enemies. Could you give me a clue, or a pointer to where they could be? Where they could be trapped? Perhaps someone captured them in a relic of some sort. I hear sorcerers are known to do that a lot."

"Is that what you were looking for when you came in?" he asked a hint of realisation in his eyes.

"Yes," she nodded hesitantly, "Do you have something of the sort? Or could you direct me to a hide out or something of one of their past adversaries?"

He gave out a short laugh. She bristled in offence, muscles tensing up. What could this man find the least bit funny in this conversation?

"I doubt that you'd be able to go ten meters near one of your parents' foes without turning into a pile of sizzling ashes. Do you do any magic at all?" the question seemed almost genuine.

"Yes," she stood a bit straighter earning a doubtful look from the man, "Well not everything," the frown deepened and her bravado disappeared, "Only a little bit, alright? There wasn't exactly anyone around to teach me this stuff! Look, all I want to do is find my parents. Please! Just-just tell me what you can and I'll be out of your hair."

The man looked her over, as if deep in thought, her pleading eyes seeming to make his inner struggle even more difficult. After several minutes of standing there in a desperate heap waiting for a response, Cassandra saw him sigh and close his eyes as if in realisation of a painful truth.

"Come with me," he spoke solemnly and turned away from her to start walking.

Spirits lifting like they never had before, Cassandra rushed to follow, corners of her mouth lifting involuntarily. He was going to help her! He was actually going to help her find her parents! This was a most brilliant breakthrough!

Her expression shifted to one of confusion as her led her out of the store and to the opposite end of the sidewalk. What were they doing here? Rummaging through his pockets for a second the sorcerer pulled out a set of keys. Sauntering up to a smooth, black sports car he unlocked it and then turned to look expectantly at her.

"Are you serious? You want me to get in the car? I thought you were suppose to help me find-"

"Your parents, yes, I know. And that is precisely what I'm doing. Now do you want my help or not?" he asked impatiently, motioning to the sleek ride.

Grumbling something unrecognisable under her breath she moved forward to the passenger side. If this was going to help her, then a ride in a pretty sports car it was. Trying not to slam the door behind her she sat down, looking over the inside of the car. Her eyes almost popped when she caught side of the logo placed on the steering wheel.

"You can afford to drive an _Aston Martin_? How much does that shop supply you with, anyway?" she asked as he took a seat beside her.

He scoffed at the question, a crooked smile on his lips, "Who says I bought it?" he answered staring the car and diving into the sea of traffic.

Cassandra opened her mouth to reply but then shut it in realisation. She gave herself a mental shake. _Think, Cassandra, think! He's a _sorcerer_ for crying out loud!_ her conscience reprimanded. For all she knew this whole thing could just be a transformed tricycle.

"Open your mind, Cassandra. You're playing with the big boys now."

"Who are you?" she finally asked, the question had been bothering her since he sent that flying ball of energy at her.

"I'm surprised your parents never mentioned me," he spoke casually.

"They probably thought you would be too scary to talk about in front of a child," her cocky grin disappeared at his stern gaze, "Sorry."

"I'm your father's Apprentice, or _was_ anyway," he answered simply.

"My father's Apprentice? But my father's Apprentice was..." her mind felt like it had been hit with a cinder block, "You?" she yelped, looking him over again.

"Me, what?" he asked almost lazily, but she didn't miss the smug glint in his eye.

"You are the Prime Merlinian? The one who holds the Dragon Ring? The one who defeated Morgana? The one who saved my father's life? You?"

His grin finally broke out, "Yes, me."

"But-but... My father used to tell me stories about you. How you started out as this nerdy teen then ended up saving the whole world. Your battle with Morgana used to be one of my favourite bedtime stories..." she slumped into the seat, shaking her head in disbelief, "What the hell happened to you?"

"That is none of your concern," he deadpanned roughly.

She flinched at the harshness of his voice and the sudden change of character. It must have been bad-whatever had happened-to get him to be like this. She remembered a totally different person when she thought of the great Prime Merlinian and his adventurous tales alongside the brilliant Balthazar.

Silence overwhelmed the car as the uncomfortable end to their conversation hung in the air like smog. She found the quiet too much to bear after a few minutes.

"So, Dave, where are we going exactly?"

He cocked an eyebrow at the address but answered anyway, "An old subway turnaround."

"The same one you and dad trained at?" she couldn't help the excitement from showing in her voice.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it has plenty of space, nothing too fragile and no one will know that we are down there."

"Is there any particular reason why those are necessary factors for the location?"

"You ask too many questions," he sighed in frustration, taking a left and slowing down, "We're here," he said, parking.

Cassandra let her mind race for a minute. Thousands of curious questions and plenty of excited thoughts crossed and overfilled her mind. She didn't answer or stress about them but just let them swarm in her mind, waiting for the storm of words and question marks to subside into a tolerable hum of anticipation.

Dave exited the car as soon as he killed the engine, shutting the door behind him. She followed his lead and looked up at the ancient-looking building in front of her. Unable to sight-see for long due to her guide's rushed strides, she continued on into the building to be greeted by a rusted staircase.

"Nice place..." she mumbled looking around the tall brick walls and curving ceilings. Funny, she had imagined it differently when her dad told her the story; bigger, brighter and definitely less cluttered. The whole place was filled with discarded wires, ruined furniture and worn out cleaning supplies. "How long has it been since you were last down here?"

"Long enough," he replied. With a quick swish of his hand the objects seemed to come alive. The clutter moved out of the way and re-arranged itself into a more habitable layout.

Cassandra found herself marvelling at the wonder of it all. It should have been a simple thing for a girl raised by two of Merlin's Apprentices but it had been a long time since Cassandra had been anywhere near magic. It was like being introduced to the mystical art all over again.

"Now I'm going to offer you a choice," Dave spoke in a serious tone, snapping her attention to him, "Become my Apprentice or move on with your life and forget about magic like you did before. I'll be willing to teach you if you would be willing to learn."

"A-Apprentice? But you said-"

"I know what I said, and I am keeping to my promise. If I were to teach you magic, you would be able to learn spells that could aid you in your search for your parents. That is what you want isn't it?" he asked.

"Why?" she asked, astounded by the offer. Astounded by the even _mention_ of the offer.

"Because," he took in a deep breath, suddenly looking like he had been living for centuries. The creases on his face seemed to deepen, the black circles under his eyes darken and eyes cloud over like they had done in the store. His gaze seemed to look beyond her, to another time, another place. "Your father was my Master and the least I can do to pay him back for all he did for me is to take you in." His attention focused back on her, a sorrowfully honest look in his eyes, "But is this what you want?"

"Of course," she answered solemnly, "I'll do anything to see them again."

He seemed to give her an almost sympathetic look. Then moving to the centre of the room, the Prime Merlinian closed his eyes in concentration. He slowly raised his hands and Cassandra took a step back as the entire place started to shake, lights flashing overhead. With a quick motion, he jerked his hands downward, making the entire room burst with light from the wicked green flames erupting from the ground. Cassandra couldn't help the surprised cry that broke out from her as the flames surrounded the sorcerer in a perfect circle. Dave swept his arms around him as if drawing in the air, the same shapes reflected in the floor as the green fire burned the designs into the brick. As soon as the flames had decreased to a flickering ember he opened his eyes again and turned to her.

"This is the Merlin's circle, I'm sure you've seen it before."

A slow nod from Cassandra answered his question as she examined the fantastical creation in front of her. She had seen one, yes, but never the creation of one. _I wonder if I'll be able to do that someday..._ she tried to push away the thought. She wouldn't need to learn that much. She'd just stay until she found out a spell that could show her a person's location or an incantation that could lead her to what she desired most.

"You understand that if you enter this circle, you shall be remerged into the world of sorcery? And that there is no going back?" he asked earnestly.

"Yes."

"And you are ready and willing to become my Apprentice under those conditions?"

"This is starting to sound a lot like a contract..."

"Answer the question," he spoke sharply.

"Yes."

He gave a contented sigh and nodded, motioning for her to step forward into the circle. And leave everything else behind. Moving lightly, she ignored the flames, feeling nothing when they crackled and snapped at her heels. She stood in front of him, chin held up and a determined expression on her face.

"I am David Stutler, Prime Merlinian, and you are my Apprentice."

* * *

_Well this is going to this is certainly going to be an interesting adventure! I hope... This chapter was mostly inspired by 'Spotlight' by Mute Math (hence the title). Search it up! It really is a great song._

_A very big, big, big, big, BIG thanks to all of you who reviewed! You guys are really the best ever! **fussbudget:** Many thanks for pointing out that (most embarrassing) error! The book I had been reading at the time had a character with that name and guess I sort of got it mixed into the writing. It has been fixed, thanks to your sharp eyes._

_Also, (I know you just want me to shut-up but please listen to one more thing) I have started school again (yuck!) so my updating will be getting very slow from now on. I'll try to get something up every week but no guarantees. If you need someone to blame, point your fingers at my teachers and their ludicrous assignments._

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll try to get the next one up soon! Reviews are greatly appretiated and desired!_

Sincerely,  
AncientQuill


	5. Gravity

**Gravity**

Dave nodded respectfully to the young girl before him and she returned the gesture; a silent agreement between teacher and student. Dave moved away from her and out of the ring of green flames.

"Now," he spoke, facing her once more, this time from outside the Circle, "You should, of course, know that a sorcerer needs several things in order to create magic."

"His will and his Ring?" it was more of a question than an answer.

Dave nodded, "And a pair of leather shoes."

Her eyes widened and her mouth came down into a frown at his words, her expression turning into a cross between disgust and disbelief. She shook her head as he turned to kneel in front of a small shelf and pick out a pair of black shoes that looked older then her. She placed her arms in front of her in a warding motion as his Ring glowed and the shoes shrunk in order to fit her.

"No way. I _hate_ those things. I wore them when I was five and vowed never to put them on my feet again. Besides, they're not actually _necessary_ to do magic. I would think of them as more _optional_ than anything, really."

Looking up from the pair of coal-black shoes, Dave at first he seemed generally surprised at this. Amusement flickered in his eyes only for a moment before being replaced by a stern frown. He stretched out his arm, offering her the ancient things expectantly.

"I'm not putting them on."

His frown deepened.

"There is no way I'm wearing them."

He fisted his free hand.

"Absolutely not."

His Ring glowed.

"No."

The air started to shimmer with energy.

"Fine! I'll wear them!" she yelled in exasperation, moving forward and taking the shoes from his hands hurriedly, kneeling down to put them on. "No need to get violent," she mumbled.

"Good," a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, "Let's get started then. I'm sure you know the power of a Merlin's Circle, correct?" he asked, taking his hat and placing it on a near-by chair.

"Yes," she said, getting up again, an uncomfortable look on her face as she shifted her weight from foot to foot in her new shoes. She tossed her rubber runners outside the circle of flames and turned back to Dave. "It makes spells easier to cast, lessens the struggle of learning a new spell and generally powers up anything a sorcerer can cast."

"Perfect. So you can tell me what happens when you stand in different areas of the Circle?" he asked raising a brow in question.

"The Circle is made up of six sections. One is for spells concerning time," she motioned to the circle in front of her, "One for elements," she motioned to the one behind her, "And another for transformation, mind, motion and matter," she finished, pointing to each section at its name.

"And what does each section help a sorcerer do?"

"The time circle is for spells such as seeing into the past and prophesising. The elemental circle is for spells concerning nature. The transformation circle is for shape-shifting spells. The mind circle for spells like seeing other peoples thoughts or projecting memories. The motion circle for spells like levitation and movement and the matter circle is for spells concerning the creation of things and energy."

"You sound as if you've rehearsed the whole thing," Dave smiled lopsidedly at her in amusement.

"That's um... Because I have," she answered sheepishly, "Da- My father made me memorise the whole thing out of the Incantus."

"Well since you have all that down to a science, let's see if your actions speak as clearly as your words. Show me what you can do," he nodded toward her in encouragement.

She bit her lip nervously. She hadn't done magic in... Well she couldn't remember the last time she'd cast a spell. Even a spell as simple as filling a cup with water seemed like a hard task at this point. Since her parents had left she'd only ever been in the presence of non-sorcerers. And magic was a secret never to be revealed to those unable to create it. It seemed easier to quit the whole business then go out of her way to practise spells she had only ever read about in the Incantus. Magical objects, however, were a whole different story. She could probably name every one ever created. She had to know what each one looked like in case she happened to come across it during her travels. Especially ones made for sorcerer-capturing purposes.

"Well I wasn't really..." she paused to consider his expectant expression, "That is to say I'm not..." she rubbed her left arm apprehensively, "I haven't exactly..."

"Just show me what you _can_ do and we'll worry about what you _can't_ later."

She sighed in defeat, her lip still caught between her teeth. _What can I do? _She rummaged desperately through her memories, looking for anything that might be remotely related to a doable spell. An illusion? No. A transformation spell? Definitely not. It seemed her only option was kinesis at this rate. Looking around the room she scanned the place for something light she could use as a subject. Her eyes fell upon a pen sitting on the cobweb-riddled desk in the corner. Moving to the motion circle she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. _Come on, Cassie, you can do this,_ she urged herself, concentrating hard on the black pen in front of her. _Move!_ she commanded it, narrowing her eyes in a struggle. It didn't budge.

"Are you going to move it or just stare at it?" Dave interrupted. She shot him a stony glare before turning her attention back to the pen.

Raising her hand she tried again. _Move! _she ordered, trying to picture the pen lifting off the dusty desk and into the air. Still nothing. Cassandra was really starting to lose her calm control at this point. What type of sorcerer couldn't get a pen to move? She was that daughter of Balthazar and Veronica! This should be automatic. It was in her blood!

"Oh, for crying out loud! Move!" she yelled forcefully. The cool Rings hanging around her neck burned with this sudden awakening of energy. The pen rattled in place before rolling over onto the floor. "Ha! See that!" she grinned broadly, more to herself than her Master. It wasn't the result she was hoping for but at least it was _something_.

"That's it?" he asked in a rather surprised voice.

"Well..." her bravado quickly vanished, "Yes."

"I would think you'd be capable of a bit more that moving a pen off a desk. Didn't you practise your magic at all these past eleven years?"

"I-" she looked back at his disappointed stare and rethought her next words. Excuses were not going to get her anywhere with this man. "No."

"Try it again and this time I want you to lift it, not push it," he ordered, motioning to the fallen pen.

Grinding her teeth, she raised her arm once again, gaze locking on the pen. _Move_, she commanded, visualizing the object lifting off the ground and rising into the air. The Rings around her neck glowed with magic and the pen shook again, a weaker show then the previous time. _Move_, she tried once more, attempting to get her thoughts to reflect on reality. The pen vibrated, jumping off the ground and falling back down again. _Come on! Move!_ she urged the plastic again, it was a miracle her jaw hadn't broken with all the pressure she was applying. The pen slowly rose of the ground with shaky jerks; she narrowed her eyes in concentration, forcing it to continue to rise. The shivering pen finally rose inches over the desk.

"Good, now keep it there," came Dave's voice. She gave a desperate whine in response. How long was she supposed to keep it elevated for? "And try to keep it steady."

Her fingers curled in an effort not to let it drop. She tried to calm it, attempting to keep it from shaking like a leaf in winter. The pen's movements eased, shaking only slightly now, but it was slowly losing height and getting closer to the desk.

"Don't lose it, Cassandra," Dave spoke warningly.

Cassandra gave out an exasperated sigh before finally letting the pen fall onto the desk and raise up a small puff of dust, her arms dropping to her sides.

"I can't keep it up for that long! It's too hard."

"Yes you can," he spoke sternly; "You're just not trying hard enough. Try to really _will_ the pen to move. Don't just imagine it rising, _will it_ to rise."

"I can't do that! It's hard enough having to move it let alone lift it," she protested in frustration.

He sighed angrily, shaking his head and causing dark locks of hair to peek out of the felt hat. Cassandra swung her head around as the desk the pen had been sitting on rose off the floor and flew to the other side of the Circle before landing with a small thud.

"You should be able to do that."

"There is no possible way I can lift that! It's massive! Didn't you see what happened to the pen?"

"Mind over matter."

"But-"

"Try. _Will_ _it_ to move."

She huffed out an annoyed breath and turned her attention to the desk. Raising her hands she narrowed her eyes in concentration.

"This is never going to work..." she mumbled under her breath.

'Will it to move'? Well that was easier said than done. How was she supposed to lift a _desk_ off the ground when she couldn't hold up a _pen_ for more than a minute? Concentrating on the dusty piece of furniture and making it the centre of her attention, she tried willing it to rise. The Rings around her neck glowed once again, but the old piece of wood didn't budge, although a puff of dust rose off it and created a miniature cloud above it.

Cassandra turned back to Dave with an I-told-you-so expression painted as clearly on her face as a sunrise on a sky. He shook his head and motioned for her to try again.

"Notice how all that dust moved? That was the effects of your magic surrounding the desk. Now all you have to do is put that potential energy to use," he said forcefully.

With a deep intake of breath, Cassandra turned her attention back to the now clean desk. _Rise_, she tried again, _I _will_ you to rise_. The desk -to her amazement and delight- started to shake. The whole thing started to move, the legs of the desk jumping of the ground a few inches. _Rise_, she commanded once more, making the desk lift in a shaking fit completely off the ground. The desk rose a bit more, inching higher into the air as it levitated in a shaky manner.

"Don't lose it!" Dave exclaimed once again as the desk started to lose height, "Don't lose your control over it. Just try to keep it steady."

Papers and books started to tip off the desk as it shook from side to side. Cassandra bit down on her lip hard, in an effort to keep the whole thing steady. The constant movement subsided to casual drifting from one side to the next.

"Better, now I want you to try and move it."

"You know that's impossible, right?" she gasped out, still trying to hold the weight of the desk.

"Move it back to where it was, Cassandra," Dave spoke in firm tones, obviously not listening to her complaints.

Cassandra let out a strangled whine before attempting to move the shaking piece of furniture to the other side of the Circle. Her gaze fixed on the wooden object as she moved her hands in coordination of where she wished the old thing to go. The desk creaked in protest as it levitated to the left. _Yes!_ she exclaimed mentally, _I have it-_

As soon as her train of thought diverted from the rising desk, the whole thing quivered. The large piece of wood groaned, falling to the floor with a crack, one of the legs snapping off. The whole thing tipped forward in her direction; Cassandra yelped in shock and stumbled backwards in an attempt to escape being crushed.

The whole thing came to a sudden, silent stop, desk pausing in mid-air as if time had stopped. With another creak the whole thing was lifted up and put back to where it had started off. Cassandra bit her lip almost painfully. The humiliation built up inside her, making her desperately whish she did not exist. That she was someone else and not the most pathetic excuse for a sorceress she was right now, standing before a grim-looking David Stutler.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled faintly, hands clasping behind her back in a vice-like grip, fingers hooking into each other and pulling blindly in an effort to try and ignore the overwhelming embracement. It seemed the old habit had stayed with her even now.

The man before her sighed, head shaking slightly as he turned to gave at the ground. The motion causing her to tighten her grip, nails digging in harder.

"You need work, I can say that much," he said, raising his gaze to hers, "But, I believe if you practise and stay on course you might be able to gain back your true powers. And develop them as well."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy," she spoke quietly, bowing her head in a half-nod, hands still held behind her back.

"You're right. It won't," he said.

She flinched mentally. Even _he_ knew she was a lost cause.

"But it will be if you do as I say," he spoke firmly, stepping toward his hanging hat, "Come on, I'll drive you home."

Cassandra looked up to him, catching the lighter tone in his voice with curiosity. She had been expecting a completely different reaction from him. More anger for one thing, shame for another. Then again, it seemed she was experiencing both those emotions anyway.

"Coming or not?" he asked from halfway up the metal steps.

Cassandra shook herself out of her thoughts, following after him. Maybe he was right. Maybe she would do better the next time. The whole point of this was to help her learn magic in the first place. Perhaps beginners luck didn't exist in the world of sorcery. She let a small smile cross her face. The irony of that statement was too much to not be reflected on her face. No luck in magic.

Arriving back to the car, she shivered at the coolness of the night. It seemed bringing a sweater would be a wise choice the next time she went out for a night's walk out. Dave walked around to the other side of the car, opening his door and motioning for her to get in as well. She obliged, opening the black car door and sliding into the leather cushioned seat.

"So when will I learn to turn my bike into a Jaguar?" she asked light-heartedly, trying to push away her past humiliation.

"Soon enough," he replied with a smile. The expression soon faded, however, replaced with one of deep thought. "Where did you live?"

"Pardon?" she asked, turning to him.

"When you were with your parents, where did you live? Where did they go when they left New York?"

"Oh..." a confused look crossed Cassandra's face. She'd never had anyone to talk with about her parents before. It was like looking through an old library of family album and trying to decide what book to pick up first. "Well they went to Canada and I grew up in Victoria. We had the most beautiful house by the sea. It really was home..." she paused, biting her lip.

"Victoria, BC? That's unexpected. I thought they had gone south..." he asked, hands tightening on the wheel.

"Well I'm sure they did. They told me they traveled around a lot before they actually settled down up north. With you as well, actually," she gave him an expectant look, "You guys hunted down Morganians together. I used to hear stories."

He chuckled at that, "Yes... but I couldn't keep it up for too long," his expression turned grim again.

_Why?_ she wanted to ask desperately, the question being held back by the tempestuous look in his eyes.

"When did you decide to leave Canada and come to New York?" he quickly changed the subject, "To find your parents?"

Cassandra remained silent in uncertainty. What could she say? What would he think?

"Cassandra?" he asked again, turning to look at her for a moment before facing back to the rode.

She looked to her lap eyebrows knotting concentration, "Fourteen."

"What?" he exclaimed, eyes widening in shock.

"I-I was fourteen when I ran away from the centre-"

"I heard you the first time!" he cut her off. Taking a deep breath he started again, "Why?"

"Well I knew I was never going to be adopted and I wanted to find out more about what happened to my parents so I ran..." she paused for a second, "I really had no idea where they could be, or what had happened but I had the Encantus and so I got a general idea of the 'how' part. I started from Victoria and then followed the same procedure as always. Travel to the main cities of each area and locate 'magically oriented' hot-spots. I've already combed through Canada and a couple of North-East states."

Cassandra turned to the grim-faced Dave, searching for a reaction. She didn't know what to expect.

"You're telling me you've been searching an entire country for four years trying to find your dead parents?" he asked hoarsely.

"They are not dead! They're just..." she turned to face the window as she attempted to control the angry burning at the corners of her eyes, "They're just not here."

"How did you survive?" he asked cautiously.

"My parents had left me quite enough to live by. Plus, I had quite a knack for casting illusion charms to make me look older when I was younger. But as I grew up I had no more use for them so I stopped using magic completely."

"How..." he paused in consideration, "How did you get a hold of the Rings then? Why didn't you have one of your own?"

"They were found in the wreckage and I never had one of my own so I just used theirs."

The car lapsed into silence. Dave's face turned into one of confusion. It was impossible to think that a child could go through all that and end up with nothing but a disbelief of reality, a shy disposition and a habit for lying. Yet she still believed they were alive...

"How can you be so confident?" he asked partly in frustration and partly in curiosity, "How can you still think they are alive?"

Cassandra frowned angrily, how dare he question their abilities again?

"I already told you... No sorcerers of that power could ever die in a simple car crash. You should know. You fought with them, traveled with them, befriended them. Heck, you even know exactly how good my father's ability to drive is. How can you say they are dead?" her outburst seemed to travel through her body, causing her to tense up.

Dave remained silent. She was right, of course she was. But he, of all people would know that having a faith like that in something so questionable like the death of a person always ended up being a pointless and hope-shattering affair. However, he couldn't bring himself to crush her beliefs again like he had at the store. It seemed unjust.

"Your father's ability to drive was indeed impeccable."

Cassandra gave a small smile at that as her muscles unclenched.

"It's nice to finally be able to talk to someone who knew them," she almost whispered.

He raised a brow, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"Although I guess anyone would do. Well, not really- I mean..." she sighed, "I guess it's nice to finally be able to talk with someone who you know isn't just going to leave your life the next day," she finished. Her jumbled thoughts had apparently found a passage to her tongue and had decided to create chaos there as well.

"Well you'll be hearing a lot more from me, count on it," Dave turned the car, parking, "Practice starts tomorrow morning at 8:00 sharp."

"Eight o'clock? That's equivalent school on the weekend!"

"Well you have a long way to go," Dave countered, unlocking the car door.

Cassandra blushed furiously and got out of the car. However, she paused, seeing her surroundings. The car had been parked right outside her apartment building.

"Wait... I don't remember telling you my address. How did you-"

"I can read minds," Dave couldn't help the smile that crossed his face at his own comment.

Cassandra just gave him a look that seemed to be a cross between uncertainty and amusement. The door then closed shut of its own accord, swinging back with a thump. She watched as the jet-black car streaked away to be swallowed up by the sea of churning traffic.

Cassandra stood at the curb for a moment, her busy mind going over the day's events. It seemed that so much had happened in just a few hours. Years of searching had finally led to something, something that could actually help her. Not some stupid text that spoke of the encasement of the souls or a passing magician that had held a copy of the Incantus.

It wasn't exactly perfect either. She would still have to find them. Have to know where they were. But she would at least have the tools to do it. It was as if she had been staring at block of wood her entire life, only thinking about what she could shape it into, and now she had finally been given the tools in order to start moulding it into whatever she wanted.

Biting her lip to try and contain the glowing smile from her face, she started to walk toward the apartment door. Still unsure whether she would burst out laughing or crying, she pressed the elevator button that shone an alien green in the dark of the grey hall.

-/-/-/-

The human mind was a crowded place, he knew that well. And a crowd, once it is given time will always manage to fall into its own order. And there was no better place in the world to find empty time then a crowded red streetlight on the roads of New York. The flickering lights around him pulsed with an unearthly beat, disconnected noises accompanying them. His palms repeatedly pressed and rubbed the steering wheel in frustration and uncertainty.

He had missed so much. Ever since... He had missed so much. And he had cut himself off from them, a part of him blaming them for what had happened. He had blamed everyone for the events that had unfolded, himself more than anyone. _Guilt, pain, anger, regret..._ The emotions raged on and on. He should have known. He should have known about them. He should have been there. _But it's too late..._Of course it was too late! It was always too late! And now he had found another chance.

The glimmer of hope and the opportunity to move on that he had once crushed in rage had come back to him, given him a second chance. Would he accept it and atone for the mistakes of the past? They were gone, that was certain, but the child they had left behind was not. And unlike him, she had been strong enough from the beginning to be able to hold onto that hope, that survival. However, impending shadows and crushing reality were hard things to run from.

* * *

_Okay, now before you chase me down with the pitch forks and torches let me just formally explain what happened:_

_Now when I last said that I had work and that my updating would slow I certainly did not mean a waiting period of months. Granted, work was an issue but some other jazz happened and it completely screwed me and my schedule over. So I ended up not writing anything for months. Months! *swallows the urge to start screaming* So I'm sure you'll notice the effects of that in the chapter... *Crowd starts yelling: "Crappy! Cheesy! Crappy! Loop-holes! Cheesy!* Anyway, how I actually got back to this was just a stroke of luck. For some reason I bothered to check my old email account and it scared the hell out of me when I found a series of review alerts from Fanfiction. I can tell you now, I don't think I've felt this much guilt since I poured tea on my friend's art project. So I immediately rushed to finish this chapter and posted it up as soon as possible._

_And now for the __grovelling__..._

_I'm so, so sorry to all those who have been actually waiting for this damn chapter to come up! I tried to make it longer then my past chapters, as a small substitution for the wait but I know the delay was completely inexcusable. And again, I'm so, so sorry. *raises shield in preparation for mob attack* Feel free to leave a review though... *sheepish grin*_


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